


Nothing At All

by jamwrites



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Crushes, Gay, Gay Male Character, M/M, Sexual Tension, Swearing, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-17 14:26:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8147386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamwrites/pseuds/jamwrites
Summary: Keith knew that running was evil.Well, he thought he had known. He had been introduced to the horrors of sustained jogging when Shiro had dragged him to a cross country practice earlier that fall because he “needed to get out more” and it was “a good way to meet people.” All that Keith had gotten from the experience was a new deep-seated fear of cardio exercise.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic based on an [anon ask](https://catnippackets.tumblr.com/post/150980287770/1-of-2-today-i-went-to-the-nurse-to-get-my-ankle) from [catnippackets](http://www.catnippackets.tumblr.com) on tumblr that inspired me to write this. I wrote it in like 30 seconds sorry forgive me.

Keith knew that running was evil.

Well, he thought he had known. He had been introduced to the horrors of sustained jogging when Shiro had dragged him to a cross country practice earlier that fall because he “needed to get out more” and it was “a good way to meet people.” All that Keith had gotten from the experience was a new deep-seated fear of cardio exercise.

Which apparently hadn’t been pounded hard enough into his head. Because last week he had thought _oh, man, it looks like a nice day out, maybe I’ll go run_. Yeah, screw that. His foolish, naive belief in the benefits of running had served only to lead him into the forest paths on the edge of town, where a half hour into his run, he had stepped in a pothole and sprained his ankle. He had had to call Shiro to carry him out of the trails. In his arms. Like a baby.

And today--a week later--in Calc his ankle had started pulsing with a dull, painful heat again. So, here he was in the nurse’s office sitting with a bag of ice and trying not to look at a poster detailing the stages of puberty in pre-teens.

The sound of voices outside the room caught his attention. It was some kid complaining. Loudly. The voices came closer and closer ( _please don’t let them come in here, just leave me alone_ ) until the nurse’s door swung open and a tall, lanky boy came appeared, talking over his shoulder at someone in the hall.

“...really isn’t a big deal I guess? Except it hurts a lot and is it supposed to be that red? I don’t think it’s supposed to be--”

Lance stopped mid-monologue when he say Keith.

“Oh, hey.” There was a strange expression on Lance’s face that Keith didn’t quite know how to read. “Didn’t expect to see you here. I thought you were, like, impervious to injury.”

Keith grunted. He was too busy trying to fix the shorting circuits in his brain to put together a reply that used actual words. Why, why, _why_ did this stupid boy have this sort of power over him? Why did he involuntarily blush every time he saw Lance’s face that was drawn in sharp, bony lines and sprinkled with freckles and framed with brown hair that actually looked like it wanted to be brown, instead of most kids’ brown hair that looked like dust? Why could he not stop himself from staring a second too long at Lance’s shirt that hugged his body, or his arms, or just him in general?

And why, above all else, did Lance act like he did around him? A year ago, Keith and Lance had been bitter rivals. But that was before Keith had started crushing on him. And Keith had no idea whatsoever was going on in that boy’s head. He wanted so badly to imagine that Lance liked him, too, but he knew that was wistful thinking.

“Well, you’ll probably heal super fast. I mean, you should. Your body is, like, perfect.”

It was when Lance said things like this that Keith’s fantasies and hopes went crazy. Things had been so much simpler when they had just scowled at each other in classes.

Lance’s eyes traveled down--did they linger on Keith’s chest?--to the ice bag he held against his ankle.

“Is that ice?”

“Well, it’s not water.”

“The nurse didn’t give me any, and I can’t really go to the training room to get some from that freezer, because my ankle’s pretty much shattered. Real bad injury she said, probably gonna take, like, forever to heal.” For the first time, Keith noticed Lance in his gym clothes, leaning heavily on the counter. And his ankle _was_ pretty red. Definitely swollen.

“Do you think...I can have some of your ice?”

Keith frowned. “What? No way.” Shit. Wait. That wasn’t a nice thing to say. “I mean, uh, I guess we can--”

“Great, you’re the best!” Before Keith could react, Lance’s long-ass arms had reached down and plucked the ice bag from Keith, and then the guy was limp-running out of the room. He looked back over his shoulder and shot Keith a shit-eating grin that was also...playful? Flirting? No, that couldn’t be.

“Hey!”

Keith rose unsteadily to his feet. “Give me back my ice bag, you jerk!”

“Gotta catch me first, Kogane!”

Lance’s voice echoed; he must have been halfway down the hallway already. What a little shit!

With a tremendous amount of effort, Keith set off after him. Fortunate for him it seemed like Lance really had hurt himself; he was limping pretty badly, leaving a trail of dripping meltwater behind him. And Keith had the benefit of a week’s healing on his side. A few moments of frenzied limping later, he caught up to Lance and reached for the bag.

Keith’s foot slipped on something wet-- _the ice water,_ he had time to think--and he pitched forward. His arms flailed, looking for purchase.

And then he found himself pressed against the wall. No. Pressed against _Lance_ , who was pressed against the wall.

Keith’s hand was resting on Lance’s chest. He could feel the other boy’s heartbeat.

Heat pricked at his ears. Oh, no. Was this happening? Like, actually happening?

Keith looked up, and found his face was very, very close to Lance’s.

“Hello there, Keith Kogane.” For the briefest of moments, Lance had looked startled, surprised, but then his face visibly pulled itself together into his off-kilter grin.

But his freckles were still stained red.

“I, uh, I didn’t mean too--”

Keith tripped over his words and tried to pull away. His stupid foot was positioned awkwardly on the wet floor and it hurt, so he couldn’t move it, and he was leaned so far forward that almost all his weight was resting on Lance.

Slowly, carefully, Lance’s big hands wrapped around his shoulders and righted him.

And the hands didn’t move.

Keith’s face was well and truly burning now. He felt a little short of breath. Maybe a little dizzy too. He looked at Lance, and looked and looked. His hand rested over one of Lance’s to steady himself, but he didn’t drop that hand either. Lance’s skin was so warm, a little sweaty from gym class, but he was _touching_ it.

“Lance, good news! I found some more ice!” And just like that, the moment evaporated. Keith turned to see Ms. Allura, a college PT student who had an internship or something at their school, jogging towards them with ice. A few more seconds and she would reach them.

What was going on? What had just happened? Keith looked at Lance, but judging from his face, he didn’t know either.

Lance’s hands dropped away. It was stupid how much Keith wanted them back. And then Allura was there and her high energy washed over both of them and swept them away in her current. Keith went back to class and Lance to the nurse’s and probably the hospital afterwards, because Keith didn’t see him for the rest of the day.

But he still felt his hands on his shoulders. And the nervous fluttering of Lance’s heartbeat.

Compared to those things, the aching in his ankle was nothing. Nothing at all.


End file.
